


Stripperlock

by Fanfictions14



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Johnlock - Freeform, Johnlock Smut, M/M, Sheriarty - Freeform, Sherlock AU, Stripping, Top!lock, bottom!John, dom!lock, stripperlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-06 21:19:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1872852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanfictions14/pseuds/Fanfictions14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson is a professional medical detective with the ability to deduce. Sherlock Holmes is a stripper caught up in a drug addiction. What happens when these two meet for the first time?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

SHERLOCK'S POV  
A black glittery thong with a fake police badge is how I start all my routines. I am "The Detective" after all. And I'm damn good at my cases. I've solved everyone. Im the main attraction here at St Bart's Stripper Club: the only gay strip club in London. Because I can look at you and know your whole life. And I use that to my advantage. Because in the end, you may lose the game but you will have a good time playing it. No one has ever beaten me...except one person. And his name is John Watson.

"Oh god yes right there!!" I finished sucking off my final client of the night and stood up from the floor. Glitter and cum were everywhere. 

"Wipe yourself off, the bathroom's just down the hall if you need to shower, and you owe me 20 quid," I said with impatience. It was almost one o clock at night and I was ready to go home. Gary or Grayson, whatever his name was, looked at me in utter shock.

"What, that's it? Nothing else?" Some clients can be such idiots.

"Yes that's it," I said, mimicking him, "Im a stripper not your husband. If you want sentimentality, go watch telly or marry someone. Until then, Id appreciate you getting off your arse and paying me my fee so I can go home." He buckled his trousers and got up, whipping out his wallet. 

"Here." He said, handing me a bill. He exited my "office" and I could hear his shoes click clacking down the hall. College student. Mid 20s. Has midterm exams but needed to get away from the stress of studying. Also has girlfriend but is curious about his sexuality. 

He'll be back. They always come back. I lit a cigarette, buttoned my shirt, and left for the night.

JOHN'S POV  
"Hey John." Greg approached my desk, and smiled down at me.

"Hello Greg, how are those cases coming along?" I replied smoothly, making small talk.

"They've been well," he said, "Hey after your shift's over, you wanna go for a drink? I've been needing to unwind."

"Sure," I said, glancing at the clock, "See you in two hours."

"See you."

After WORK, Greg and I headed to the local bar to have a drink. It didn't take long for the both of us to get completely pissed, giggling like schoolgirls and leaning into each other. For the life of me I couldn't remember what the hell was so damn funny.

"Ok John, wanna take a dare?" I struggled to regain control of my incessant laughing. 

"Ok, Lestrade, what dare?"

He sat there for a moment, contemplating, "Hmmmm.........I dare you.....to spend 1 whole hour in St Bart's." 

My eyes widened in shock, "The gay strip joint? No....no...absolutely not. Sod that!" 

Greg raised his eyebrows in a teasing manner "Oh is someone chicken?" He asked, bringing his arms up under his pits to flap like wings, "Bock-bock-bock-bock-boooooock!!!" 

He kept this up for ten minutes before I finally relented, "Fine!!" I yelled, "Ill go." 

Greg shot me a smug look of triumph.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John meet for the first time. In a pretty unconventional way.

SHERLOCK'S POV

I stood in front of my vanity mirror applying my makeup. I didnt need much of it considering the symmetric character of my face but a little glitter never hurt anybody. And it accentuates my cheekbones. 

I glanced at the clock. Five minutes to show time. I pulled up my thong and slapped the fake velcro police badge on it. When I was younger, more foolish, I was nervous before every show. Partly because I actually believed this would be a temporary gig. I was so stupid back then. 

Before I knew it, it was time to start, I exited my dressing room and made my way to the stage area. Five, four, three, two, one. The music started and I began to dance.

JOHN'S POV  
"Jesus, mate we are shitfaced drunk" Greg laughed. 

"I know," I said through giggles. We'd been sitting in St. Bart's for only ten minutes and I'd already been snogged by three blokes. Not that I minded much. I just hoped to god none of those lips had been wrapped around anyone's cock moments prior.

Greg was having a good time trying to get random guys' numbers. And it seemed as if I hardly needed to try. One of the performers simply walked right up to me and snogged me senseless for a good five minutes and said, "My dressing room. Five minutes" against my ear. That stood my cock at attention fast as lightning.

He was a hot fellow with dark brown curly hair, really sharp sexy cherkbones, and black thong with a police badge on it. Being a detective myself that had me about as hot and bothered as a lavastream but I could barely find enough energy through my scotch haze to whisper, "Ok," back to him and watch him and that glorious ass saunter off behind the stage.

SHERLOCK'S POV  
It is always so easy to tell you who'd give you the biggest tip. The ones here on business were usually pretty generous. The ones who were nervous about their wives finding out were always charitable. But the drunkards were the best. They'd practically throw their money at you. One man actually gave me his wallet. 

As I finished my dance I looked for new victims. My eyes fell on a red-headed college aged boy. Questioning his sexuality. 23 years old. Little sister cuts herself so he's always nervous. Takes care of her because their parents died two years ago....I wasnt interested. 

My eyes fell on a shortish, blonde haired man. He was quite handsome. Former army surgeon turned detective. Bisexual. Comes from poor family. Psychosemantic limp. Alcoholic brother he doesnt get along with. And hammered. He was drunk as all get out. 

Slowly I walked over to him and cupped his face in my hands. I smashed my lips down on his and shoved my tongue into his mouth. He kissed back fervently. I could feel the heat radiating from him. I seperated for air.

"My dressing room. Five minutes." I whispered into his ear. They love it when I whisper. I sauntered off adding a little sway into my hips and disappeared behind the curtain. Hook. Line. And sinker.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Smut you've all been waiting for

JOHN'S POV

I made my way backstage. The whole place smelled of sex and cigarettes. It was dimly lit and the floors were so cracked, you could cut yourself walking here. I passed by lots of doors, using them for support as I was completely hammered. Some of the doors read names like, "Gypsy Pose Me" and "Stew Paul" others simply said things like, "The Criminal" and "The Detective". Thats the door I pushed open. 

Before I could even process what was going on, a tall lanky figure had its arms around me and a warm pair of lips was damn near sucking a hole in my neck. 

SHERLOCK'S POV

The door to my dressing room opened and Mr. Handsome (the name I'd given him in my mind palace) stepped in. His eyes were glazed over, his fists balled and unballed repeatedly, his breathing was hitching. He was aroused but scared. 

I stalked over to my latest client, wrapped my arms around him and began to give him a lovebite. He moaned softly and I could feel his cock spring into action. He was definitely bisexual. He tilted his head to give me more access. My hands found his trousers and I slowly unzipped them. 

"Do you top or bottom?" I asked.

It's not like it matters anyway. Im The Detective, Im always in control, no matter whose cock is in whose arse. 

Speaking of arses, Both my hands cupped his and squeezed tightly. 

"Ive never done this before," he said in between moans and sighs of pleasure. I palmed his cock through his trousers. 

"Bottom it is then," I said, moving my lips to his ear and nibbling gently.

NO ONE'S POV

Before John could protest and say that he didn't want to bottom, Sherlock was on his knees and pulling John's trousers down. He had John's pants off lightning quick and John barely even had time to grip the sides of the table before the stripper had his dick in his tight hot little mouth. 

"Oh Jesus," the medical detective moaned as the stripper's tongue circled the head of his engorged cock. While Sherlock's mouth bobbed up and down, up and down, on the medical detective's cock, he nicked the man's wallet from his trousers and pushed it under the table, planning to go through it, take the cash, and return it later. Besides, it's not like he won't come back, Sherlock thought. 

John was moaning and keening into the stripper's mouth. He could feel his release coming like a wave cresting over the beach. 

"Im...not gonna...last!!" He yelled, as wave after wave of pleasure rocked his world. Coming down off his high, but still quite drunk from his drinking binge, it took him a minute to realize the stripper was across the room rolling a condom on his dick and lubing it up.

Sherlock approached the man and turned him swiftly around. John made to protest but the stripper was sucking abd nibbling on his ear and it felt so good. Sherlock put some lube on his fingers and stuck one inside Mr. Handsome's puckered hole. The aroused squeal he was met with told him it was ok to keep going. He added a second, drew it in and out a few times, stretching Mr. Handsome's arse, and then a third. By this time, the blonde was bent over and thoroughly enjoying the fingering he was getting. He moaned loudly and began to push back on the stripper's fingers, seeking more stimulation. 

Sherlock withdrew his fingers and leaned down to whisper in Mr. Handsome's ear, "Are you ready for me to be inside of you, Mr. Handsome?" 

John slurred back a reply, "Yes...and m'name's John..n-not Mister Han'some" The stripper licked his ear and said, 

"Alright whatever you say...John." He pushed in and John let out a low groan. 

Sherlock set up a rapid quick pace and was thrusting into John hard enough to rock the vanity underneath them. John's body trembled with pleasure and he leaned down onto the table, splaying his hands everywhere. 

"Oh fuck," he moaned, clenching beautifully around Sherlock's dick and for that was rewarded with a stiff hand in his hair yanking his head up and Sherlock's dick pounding into him rougher. 

Sherlock released little pants and grunts but for the most part was quiet. Soon enough, he felt a tightening in his balls that signaled his release and he was emptying himself into the condom.


End file.
